


Leah: A Choice of Good or Evil

by WavesBlade



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo II, Diablo III
Genre: Big Daddy D is a terrifying parental figure, Blood and Gore, Choices, Corruption, Demon Summoning, Demons, Gen, Human Sacrifice, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Mortality, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Undead, demonic heritage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 12:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WavesBlade/pseuds/WavesBlade
Summary: D3 NoPC Leah focused AU: When Uncle Deckard takes Leah to Tristram as closure to his past, Leah finds herself drawn into events that started before her birth. As the dead rise, demons stir, and nightmares egg her on, Leah leaves on a journey for truth. When she discovers it, she must make a choice of who and what she is: Good or evil, a mortal woman, or the child of a Prime Evil...
Relationships: Leah & Deckard Cain, Leah & Diablo, Leah & Isendra
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Leah: A Choice of Good or Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Diablo III AU: In which, there is no player characters, the 'plot' of DIII is only loosely followed/considered, but I will use some characters/ideas from it. Tyreal will not be mortal in this, instead, he will have returned to Heaven immediately after destroying the Worldstone, and is still there. Zoltun Kulle is too fun not to use, so he'll eventually pop up in some form. Some Diablo 2 characters may pop up, disregarding their cannon fates if said fates were revealed. I also believe that disposing of the other Prime Evils to merge into Diablo was a terrible idea, Mephisto for example has way to much potential to skip out on. Everything else is up in the air, kind of winging it. Just be aware that like most of my fanfictions, this will be a LONG fanfiction, it may take a great many chapters to reach certain points or encounter certain characters.
> 
> Leah is the main character of this in spite of how she was grossly misused in D3 and her potential for what she represents squandered. This story features her and the decisions she makes...
> 
> ...as a young woman, an adventurer, a Nephilim, the child of a witch, and as the child of a Prime Evil...

For all Uncle Deckard preached the importance of Tristram and all that had once happened there, Leah couldn't help but think of it as a dump. A dark decrepit town built over the ruins of another. She and her uncle stood over the last hill as dusk settled on the horizon, wind picking up to gust dust and dead leaves across their path, gazing over the town, Leah noted the ruins of other buildings off in the distance not bothered to be demolished, and what looked like a cathedral even further off. A dark wood of looming trees between there and the rebuilt town. For a moment...

_For a moment her world blurred..._

_For a moment the town was different..._

_For a moment a warrior, a wizard, and a ranger walked down into the town, darkness clinging around them..._

Leah shook her head sharply to dispel it. She brought up a hand to brush her brown hair out of her eyes, a single braided band of hair dangling down behind her ear, its top held in place by red headband. She brought her hand down to scratch her nose that rested on a face often to youthful looking to be taken seriously, much to her irritation. She didn't dress fancily, a red top that went down to her elbows and hips, connected to a belted bottom, tanned leather pants, fur boots, and a pouch on her belt. She bore a bow and quiver across her back, and a shortsword at her hip on the opposite side of her pouch. "I don't much like this place, Uncle."

Her uncle had seen better days, if she were to quietly admit it to herself. He was old, his skin stretchy and withered and lined with stress, stress, and even more stress. His head had balded well before she had first met him, though the full white beard, sideburns, and mustache and eyebrows made up for it. He was dressed in a scholarly blue robe, a book holding bag attached to his hip that cradled his life's works. He bore another lighter but longer bag upon his back to carry his scrolls. In his hand he had a simple brown staff, knocked and dinged from an impressive amount of travel for someone his age. He, much to her chagrin, still wore sandles that let his old feet get cut up to much if they strayed from roads into wilderness.

At the moment he was pulling on his beard, a troubled look on his face. "Nor do I, Leah, it brings back... old and dark memories."

She snuck a quick glance at him. "Why did you want to come back here then?"

He smiled an old, tired, and sad smile. "I believe its called closure, child."

Leah huffed. "If even half of the stories you've told me are true, the only closure you'd find here is burning it down and forgetting it ever happened."

"They are all true, child," he chided reflexively to her poking, "And that method of closure is far to reminiscent of the ancient Horadrim."

Leah cracked a grin. "I thought you said they only really blew things up the one time, when they confronted Mephisto in Kehjistan."

Her uncle gripped his staff tightly, making Leah's grin fade away. "You mutter the names of great evil far to easily and casually, child."

Sometimes, she wondered if Uncle would ever stop calling her child, she was twenty for heaven's sake! Maybe it was his payback for her poking fun at his stories. Despite how kind he could be, he had his nasty side when people disregarded his wisdom and his tales. Its not that she completely disbelieved everything he said, its just... some of the things he elaborated on didn't carry over to her. Like what she just said, when he said names carried power, that meant nothing to her. Where a chill would go down his spine if he said Mephisto, she could say it flippantly and not be effected. More importantly, for all he said that the world had come close to ending nearly twenty years ago with the ascent of the three so called Prime Evils... no one she ever talked to on their journey had any knowledge of what he mentioned as anything but old horror stories.

She knew evils did exist, she had heard of the undead, the goat clans, clusters of deformed mutants and animals, there had been a crazy cultist person one in a town they were traveling through that had summoned a small imp demon and was executed for it, all of that and more. Its just... an eternal conflict outside their world between billions of demons and angels? That they were the descendants of angels and demons? The degree he took his stories to was a _little_ far fetched when there was no evidence that she'd ever seen of it outside of his word and his writings. She never directly said that to his face though, she liked her uncle to much to want to cause a real spat.

Since he'd never called her a fool, she thinks she's maintained enough fronted respect for his stories. When Uncle called someone a fool, he generally meant far more than that word described normally. Idiot, moron, imbecile, ignorant, stupid, ect... he wrapped all of that nicely in a four letter word he rarely spoke but when he did was with venom. Then again, he might go easy on her. Who knows.

"Alright then, lets get going," she said cheerfully, starting down the road as the sun finally set behind the church, the dying light crawling away with every step.

Uncle Deckard sighed, but followed, his staff thumping on the dirt road. "I suppose we'll stop at the Inn and rest from our travels for the night."

_*squelch*_

Leah paused when her boots landed in something wet and sticky, glancing down to a brown patch near her boot. She lifted it up, watching reddish brown strands drip down. "What in the... is that... blood?"

_At last you've come, my child..._

Leah shook her head and glanced back at her Uncle, who merely trudged forward and took the lead. Leah frowned, eyes glanced down towards the darkened smear staining the road as if someone had been dragged. She followed her uncle uneasily to the gates and froze when she saw a guard captain and his men piling pale bodies into a burn pile. All around the entrance to Tristram were barricades, a gate, a spike filled trench, and blood, lots and lots of blood. She swallowed thickly."Heavens..."

The guard captain looked over sharply, hands briefly going to his sword, before relaxing. "New to Tristram, travelers?"

"My niece is, I am not," said Deckard, unphased by the awful sight, "We seek rest from our journey for the night, may we enter?"

The guard captain huffed. "You'd be better off moving on then, there's little true rest to be had in Tristram these days between the undead plague, the rampaging wildlife, and the blasted goat clans."

Her Uncle pulled on his beard. "Moreso than normal? Last I heard this was normal for these lands."

That earned a scowl from the guard captain. "Indeed, woe be it why we bothered resettling this damned place. But yes, over the last month its started to spike, especially the last few days, as if the whole damned land has been riled up. The undead attack daily. Goat clans are bellowing something about evil's return or something like that before they swarm us. Had an attack yesterday where they were screaming 'its almost here' at us in a blood frenzy."

He spit on the ground. "Thinking of taking my family and moving soon."

He shook his head. "Enter if you wish, but I advise against staying long..."

"The dead come again!" a cried roared out.

Leah looked over, startled at a stream of pale people-no, corpses, shambling slowly from the other side of the path, gaping mouths and wounds all over their body, cloths hanging or missing entirely, exposing parts best left hidden.

"Inside, inside now!" the guard captain ordered sharply, knocking three times to briefly have the gate opened before they were shoved through.

Leah watched the gate close in her face moments before the guards hacked away at the undead, standing there aimlessly, shocked, before her uncle tugged at her arm. "Come child."

"But... that's...," she stuttered, "Those were..."

He gave her a searching look before shaking his head. "Perhaps we should have come here earlier, I've tried to steer clear of some of the darker places of the world, and I've tried to warn deaf ears, evil does exist, this is only the beginning of it. Steel yourself to it, child."

She swallowed and followed him into town, her first thoughts being 'where is everyone'? The streets are deserted; in every other town or city she'd been in, there had been plenty of people roaming at dusk and night before. She can see candlelight in various bared or reinforced windows, but no one walks the streets. They arrive at the inn, the sign 'The Slaughtered Calf Inn' making her winkle her nose in distaste. Who names an Inn that? Trying to play on the dark history Uncle Deckard goes on about maybe for tourism?

The door creaked loudly and slowly as her Uncle pushed it open, the smell of alcohol and roasted meat spilling out into the crisp night air. The pair briefly drew attention from the occupants of the tavern, twitchy fingers palming weapons, or warily ,looking at the door, before they determined the two travelers weren't threats. Uncle Deckard took two steps into the tavern before he froze, a small gasp escaping his lips.

"Deckard Cain," came a woman's deep, powerful voice, "It's been some time."

Leah came to her uncle's side as the tavern gave them a second now surprised look. Her uncle paid most no heed, instead his wide eyes were stuck on a mature woman sitting alone in the center-most table of the room. She had long flowing brown hair, brown eyes, gold large circle earrings, and a three piece tiara in her hair. She had a gold full-wrap around her collarbones and lower neck with a paired turquoise silk-wrap around her top covering her breasts and up to her elbows that hung down across her back that paired with a black gold-lined cloth covering her hips. Her midriff, and legs exposed. She had gold armlets up to her wrists on both arms, and on the lower parts of her legs to her brown fur boots. Next to the table, she had a gray-wood staff with a purple gem in the top of it.

Uncle Deckard recovered from his surprise and gave the woman a sharp nod. "Isendra, it has been a long while."

The woman, Isendra, motions to the table. "Please, you and your... friend, are welcome to have a seat."

"My niece, Leah," he offers as he walks over, sitting down, Leah following slowly after him.

There's something about this woman that pulls at her warily. A kind of itch between her shoulderblades, a pool of caution in her stomach. She can't recall anyone causing that reaction before. Isendra gives Leah a brief, curious lookover before refocusing on Uncle. "Its been near two decades since it all ended, I'm surprised to see you back here."

Deckard smiles wryly. "Or perhaps you are more surprised to see an old relic such as I still alive."

"Nonesense," rebuts the woman, a smile on her face, "What are you now, eighty? The prime of your youth."

Deckard huffs. "Tell that to my aching joints."

They share a chuckle before going silent, both smiles fading away, a serious look crossing their faces. "Why have you returned here, Deckard Cain?"

"Why have you, Sorceress?"

A sorceress? Leah regards the woman in a new light. Maybe that's what the twitch was. She had never met a mage or a sorceress before.

"I've always kept my ears to the ground," answered Isandra, "The stirrings of Tristram drew my attention, and I found myself having to reactivate the old Horadrim waypoint system to make my way back here. I thought it best to scope out the area before I risk seeking the others out to draw back into the fold."

"Have you kept contact with all of them?" asked Deckard.

"All of whom?" asked Leah.

Deckard held up a hand. "I'll explain later, child, please keep your silence."

Leah crossed her arms and scowled a little, but obeyed.

Isendra regarded the exchange with some amusement before answering, "Not most of them. Its primarily that harpy of an assassin who keeps watching me expecting that I'll go off half-cocked. Honestly its a bit _embarrassing_ to still be watched as if I'm an apprentice that might lose control or give in to demonic temptation. I can get ahold of her easily enough. The others..."

She shrugged. "I'm sure if things keep picking up, some of them might show up at some point, the rest will have to be sought out. I'm hoping the troubles here are a simple matter, perhaps some fool playing with demonic magic causing a stir that can be nixed easily enough. But..."

"You don't believe so?" finished Deckard quietly.

"No," agreed Isendra, "I feel it in my bones. Just like the call that first drove me to the Rogues Encampment all those years ago. I just don't know what it could be. The three are gone, their Soulstones were destroyed, so its not them."

Soulstones... the three... was she talking about Uncle Deckard's tale about the Prime Evils?

"I don't know," said Deckard, "There are other hellish powers aside from those three, but I would think their fear of those who vanquished their betters would keep them in the pit where they belong."

Isendra hummed. "I suppose we'll see."

She shifted in her seat. "So tell me Deckard, where have you been and what have you been up to all these years?"

Leah listened with half attention as her Uncle started his tale. Most of her attention was on the Sorceress, trying to recall if he had ever mentioned her before. She knows the name Isendra is new to her, but had there been any allusions? Uncle was fond of cryptic hints and warnings and sayings, but... she can't for the life of her remember any that allude to a Sorceress before. She keeps searching her memories, trying to find anything...

"And when did you meet your niece?"

At that, Leah refocuses, and frowns unhappily at the memory that crosses her mind. "He took me in from a woman who had no place raising a child."

That gets a raised eyebrow out of Isendra.

Deckard merely puts a soft hand on her shoulder. "Gillian hadn't been sound of mind for a long while, child, it wasn't her fault."

Leah pursed her lips. Uncle Deckard wasn't the one who had to grow up as the 'Sewer Rat', surrounded by bullies, a half-mad 'mother' who turned out to just be a caretaker, weird inexplainable occurrences, and endless nightmares that never made sense or that she couldn't properly recall.

"Gillian..." said Isendra, tasting the word, "Didn't you speak of her once? One of the original villagers during the Darkening of Tristram?"

That made Leah start. "She was from Tristram?"

Gillian had never spoken of where she came from...

Deckard looked uncomfortable. "She was. The events that transpired there afflicted her mind, by the time I stumbled upon them, poor Gillian was in a deteriorating state. It was for the best that I left with Leah."

Leah gave her Uncle a hurt look. "Why did you never tell me of her origins?"

Deckard shifted awkwardly. "I meant no harm, child. Of all my tales, the Darkening of Tristram is the one I like to speak of the least, particularly in detail. It was the first, _my_ first, exposure to true evil. The quest to chase after the three was simply what came after. But the original Darkening..."

He shook his head, his voice cracking a bit, "It was madness."

Leah sits in her seat with unease now. A sliver of doubt in her mind. This was the first time in her life any of her experiences had been actually linked back to Uncle's stories. How much truth was there in those tales?

"Well, I'll be doing my best to make sure we don't have a repeat Tristram," said Isendra, "Can't go having to rescue you out of a cage surrounded by demons and undead twice now, can we?"

Leah's eyes widened a bit. This woman had saved her Uncle's life?

Deckard huffed. "Perhaps it will be you this time."

"Not likely," said Isendra with a lop-sided smile, "Demons would sooner kill me than take me captive."

Deckard grunted, but went silent.

"Let me order you two a warm meal and pay for your rooms," offered the woman.

"But...," began Leah.

The woman waved a hand and stood, leaving the table.

"We're not leeches," muttered Leah.

"Isendra and I are old friends, child," advised Uncle Deckard, "Accepting the gift of a friend is not a slight to our status nor the life we live. Pride has its place, but not when it interferes so."

Leah bit her lip and looked away, frustrated. She was starting to wish they hadn't come to Tristram. She mumbled her thanks when the Sorceress returned some time later with plates of food and dug in. They ate in silence for several minutes before the entire Inn jolted when a loud bell echoed through the town. Leah tensed when everyone all but charged out of the inn, hands on their weapons.

"Whats going on?" Leah asked Isendra.

The Sorceress sighed and rose to her feet. "The call to arms, another large attack must be coming."

"Take Leah with you," asked Uncle Deckard quietly, making Leah startle, "I fear she will need the experience long before this is over."

Isendra frowned, sizing Leah up again, before nodding. "As you wish, stick behind me, and use only your bow for now. I don't wish to accidentally harm you with my spellcraft if you are to close to my targets."

Leah sat there, frozen as the Sorceress left, before her Uncle nudged her. "Go, Leah."

She sucked in a breath, pushed down her unease (_her fear_), and rose to her feet, taking off after the Sorceress. The Guard Captain from earlier was in the town square. "Scouts say the dead are really whipped up, they're slowly making their way from all directions and coming for the Tristram by the hundreds. We're going to be in for the long haul this time."

He began barking orders to man the walls and cover the entrances. Directing groups this way or that way before Isendra strode forward, her voice brokering no argument. "I will take the north entrance towards the Weeping Hollow."

The Guard Captain took one look at her and waved her off. "Go."

Isendra moved at a surprisingly fast pace for someone so slim, Leah had to jog to keep up with her; the Sorceress spoke as they moved, "What combat experience do you have?"

"I've fought bandits and hunted wildlife before," answered Leah, "But... that's about it."

"Largely untested then," commented the Sorceress.

Leah couldn't help but scowl.

The woman glanced at her. "I meant no offense, I was new and untested myself once upon a time, we all were."

They came to an old rickety covered bridge by the north entrance, a few tense guards manning the entrance. Isendra strode past without a word, Leah on her heels. She glanced over the side at the rushing waters below, and then back around, noting quite how run down the bridge looked, with the roof partially broken, support beams damage, and wondered just how stable this actually was.

"Well, all things considered, we could probably just break the bridge if it came down to it," said Leah.

"Hmm," was the Sorceress's response, "Not necessary."

When they crossed over to the other side... Leah hadn't quite known what to expect. She had heard the word 'hundreds', the largely clear but dimly lit path suggested otherwise. Then the word 'slowly' echoed back, and she recalled the shambling she had seen briefly before she entered Tristram. It might be a little bit.

"Come."

Leah started. "But... shouldn't we hold the bridge? They can only come at us from one spot, and we can't leave it undefended."

The Sorceress snapped her fingers, and Leah yelped when fire burst from the ground in the form of the head of three serpents. "They will guard the bridge, its best not to let the undead become a horde funneled as an unstoppable tide. We pick them off as they come and cull their numbers."

Leah eyed the fire serpents for a moment with an air of wonder, and a little fear, but followed. She tensed when the sound of ripping and tearing and chewing filled the air. They came across a cluster of undead, at least ten, in a tight locked ball onto the corpse of a horse, bloody faces nuzzling and swinging back and forth as they tried to rip meat off of it.

"Heavens," whispered Leah, trying not to throw up her meal.

Isendra raised a hand towards the group before pausing and looking back at Leah in consideration. "Lets get your feet wet, girl."

Leah blinked. "Huh?"

"You have a bow, and an arrow, they are your targets," said Isendra, pointing a finger.

Some of the undead had taken note of them and were rising to their feet, slowly shambling their way.

"Y-you want me to kill them?" asked Leah shakily.

Isrendra raises a single eyebrow. "Yes."

"But..." she began haltingly. It was one thing to think of the undead as a distant threat, a disease, but now that she was here... the sight of the poor souls made her ache as much as they horrified her.

"Why?" asked Leah, "Shouldn't we try to help them instead? Surely we can fix this and save them! There's got to be a way."

Both eyebrows climb this time before falling, a studious, and then sad smile on her face. "You are a kind woman, Leah, but this is the only help we can give them. To destroy the corrupted body and free the soul. Their bodies are dead, we cannot change that."

Leah's shoulders slump. "It... doesn't feel right."

Isendra puts a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps not, but it is one of the many awful and cruel truths of this world: That death is more often than not a release from an even worse existence. Now, let us see your aim."

Leah swallows thickly, head turning towards the shambling corpses. They're half way to them, shuffling forward, hands outstretched, broken and bloody mouths gaping. Its... a horrifying and repulsive sight, yet each of them had potentially been an innocent soul once. She turns, draws her bow, knocks an arrow, pulls back, takes a shaky breath, and lets loose, the first shot puncturing straight through the head of the lead zombie, dropping it to the ground with a faint exhale the only reaction of the poor soul.

"Well, I think you and Cassia would get along fine if you can keep that up," mused Isendra before she ordered, "Again."

Leah obeyed, one arrow, after another, after another, until the group of undead was downed. Leah stared at them silently for a long moment, before moans and groans filled the air. She looked up, eyes going wide, to see far greater numbers of undead starting to shamble towards them. Down the path, through the trees, crawling along the ground as severed corpses, tripping and stumbling over one another for their would be meals.

"Hmph," spat Isendra, waving a hand, "Childsplay."

Leah's jaw dropped when an orb of ice flew out of the Sorceress's hand, spewing shards of ice that bit into, froze, and shattered each undead it hit. "Don't just stand there, shoot!"

Leah shook her head and nocked another arrow, glancing around. Isendra focused her spellwork on the biggest groups, so Leah decided to pick off the loaners that came from the sides. She couldn't help the quick, awed glances she gave the Sorceress. She decimated the undead numbers, and she looked _bored_. The kind of power that woman had at her fingertips... what did it feel like Leah wondered?

Ultimately, as the hours drew pass, and the trail of corpses and shattered pieces grew smaller and smaller, Isendra used less and less of her power, allowing Leah to mostly pick off the leftovers as 'practice'. Finally, there were none left standing, just an eerie wind blowing through the trees, clothes on the dead rustling softly. Leah's breathing the loudest thing by far. Then...

Then her face soured when Isendra started rifling through the bodies. "What are you doing?!"

"Waste not want not," chided Isendra, "I've gone weeks without stepping foot in civilization, surviving only from what I scavenge from my kills and from the wilds. You'd be surprised what you can find, and its not like they're going to use what they carry anymore-see, this one had a potion, here, catch."

Leah nearly fumbled the small glass bottle as it came flying at her, barely catching and eying the red potion. "...should I trust drinking this if it was taken off an undead?"

"Never stopped me," answered Isendra, "You can tell when healing potions are tampered with, they lose their red hue when any foreign agent is introduced to them."

Leah purses her lips, looking away for a long moment. Stealing from the dead feels wrong, _is_ wrong... but... the woman is not incorrect. If Leah was in a awful position, do or die... she probably would without prompting. Leah takes in a long breath, pushes down the churn of her stomach, and joins Isendra looting the dead. Isendra moves in quick, practiced motions, patting pockets from the ones with clothes and moving on in seconds despite the dark of night, as if she's done this thousands of times before. It takes the pair a short while, but Leah comes away with a bit of gold richer, a number of potions in her pouch, all of her non-broken arrows back in her quiver. Nothing else of value came up.

She followed Isendra tiredly back into town, she loosely noted the other entrances had held, she's not sure if anyone died or not, but when Isendra pretty much frog marches her back to the inn, she can't find out. Uncle Deckard is waiting for them, still awake, but merely motions to the stairwell to the next floor and the rooms. Leah collapses on her bed tiredly, wanting to go to sleep right away, but there is a question burning in her mind as she watches her Uncle sit on his bed.

"Who is Isendra?" asked Leah.

Her Uncle regarded her silently for a long minute before answering, "There are many answers I can give, but the one you seek is that she is one of seven heroes who hunted down the Prime Evils twenty years ago and defeated them."

Leah takes in a sharp breath and swallows. "Oh."

Uncle smiles a sad, knowing smile, before he turns off the lamp and lays down on his bed. Leah... Leah finds herself staring up at the ceiling aimlessly. Thinking of the raw power that Sorceress had, of the stories Uncle Deckard told of the hunt of the three... and... that it all might actually be real...

* * *

_Leah stands in a ruined throne room, a massive armored skeleton resting dead on the throne. All around the room, shadows churns and slink, the corners of her eyes screaming movement, but when she turns, she finds nothing but darkness. The room is surrounded by railings, leading to a chasm down below that she can't see the bottom of. She swallows thickly though, for a moment... for a moment she felt like something was looking back up at her._

_"Leoric was a fearful fool, so malleable, so filled with fear and terror."_

_Leah whirls, where before there had been only the skeleton, now there was a hooded man, dressed in a brown robe, a simple wooden cane in his hand for support. The man moved slowly, the thudding of his cane echoing throughout the room, each one sent shivers down her spine. The man peered at her silently from under the hood, his eyes almost seeming aflame, there was... something wrong with his face from what she could see, the skin stretched oddly, covered in bruises and burns._

_"But even now, he serves another purpose I designed for him."_

_Leah swallowed. "And what purpose, is that?"_

_The man smiled, his teeth unnaturally sharp and pointed. "When Lazardous shattered the soulstone, I had him hide one shard as a failsafe, incase something went wrong. I was not unaware of the dangers the soulstones presented as more than a flimsy prison. So I needed a way back if the worst came to pass..."_

_His eyes bored into her. "...a_ _nd someone to open the way."_

_"What... what do you mean?" asked Leah fearfully, "What are you talking about?"_

_The shadows churned about them, drawing in closer and closer. The skeleton on the throne seized and screamed as unholy light filled the air. Flames rocketed from the chasm below the room, but the shadows did not flee in their presence. The man was suddenly right in front of her, grasping her chin and tilting her head up._

_"Your presence here in Tristram was the last piece I was waiting for, the damned and the slumbering demons awakening as you drew close. Now, it is time you begin to fulfill your function. Awaken your power, awaken your essence..."_

_He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, sharp teeth brushing across her skin. A red and black aura slowly spread from the kiss, surrounding Leah's body before seeping into it. She gasped as she felt... she felt something inside of her stir..._

_"And find the soulstone shard my child, **FIND IT**."_

_He pulled back, and his eyes were burn with unholy fire as they gazed into her own..._

* * *

Leah bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, hand over her heart as she took in one breath after another. She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes. "Find... find the..."

She shook her head as her breathing evened out, trying to remember what had woken her, the words in her head elusive and slippery. She slowly laid back down, pulled the covers tight to her chin, and tried to go back to sleep...


End file.
